


lights will guide you home.

by songofthestars



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: (with a touch of angst because c'mon that's me writing of course there's angst), Ahsoka is definitely alive AU, Fluff, Gen, Vader lives AU, luke makes a brief cameo too, perfectly readable as a strict platonic relationship too tho, slightly romantic if you squint, they're all a happy family now sorry i don't make the rules
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-02
Updated: 2017-08-02
Packaged: 2018-12-10 05:20:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11684910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/songofthestars/pseuds/songofthestars
Summary: (Vader Lives AU.)Anakin has found a family again, but nothing is like it was before, now.





	lights will guide you home.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is my first time in this fandom, and I'm not an English native speaker, so bear with me. Feel free to tell me if there's any mistakes, too!  
> I wrote this little fic as gift for a friend on Tumblr, we were having many feelings about Ahsoka and Anakin, and so this thing came out of nowhere.  
> Thanks for reading!

Their lightsabers clash against each other, producing a hiss as old as the galaxy. Theirs is a dance – the whole synapisis working in harmony. Their bodies are in such a perfect synchronization they look like part of a well-thought choreography.

Anakin feels once again the thrill of being in total accord with one another. After more than twenty years of cancerous isolation, it is a change he needs to get used to again.

Ahsoka feels like home and familiarity and hope and a long-dead past. Her smirk hasn't changed over the years, unlike her looks – she is grown into the mature and strong woman the twenty-years-old Anakin Skywalker hoped she would be.

“Are you out of breath?”

The hint of irony in her voice – they are equals now, not just Master and Apprentice – gives way to real worry.

They did took a while – and uncountable operations – to extract the human larva from the armor he was trapped into and give him new, functionings lungs and limbs. Nothing too invasive like it once had been, but Luke needed all his determination to persuade the Alliance to perform those operations, supervised by an efficient medical staff.

This makes him think of Leia. His daughter, the princess of a world he witnessed the end of – and he just stayed there in his cold indifference – he did _nothing_ –

“Anakin.”

Ahsoka's voice is honey and makes him come back to the present. He blinks slightly.

“Are you okay?” she says, worried. It still seems unreal, that someone could care this much for him.

“I am.”

Leia rarely talks to him, and just for Luke's sake. The princess's nature is hard and unforgiving as her father's, and he doesn't think she will ever completely forgive him. (He doesn't think _he_ will ever completely forgive himself.)

He wants her by his side, to make up for lost time somehow, and make her understand how fiercely he loves her and Luke – but it is so difficult to look at her when she resembles Padmé so, and not remember how much he harmed his own family.

His insides clench painfully in remorse. No, not just painfully: it's a seaquake in a ocean like they never existed on Tatooine – and yet it is as unmerciful as its sands.

“Anakin…”

Meanwhile, Ahsoka has come near him, and cups his disfigured cheek in her hand. (Little they could do about his face. He takes comfort in the thought that Darth Vader's armor would be even more terrifying.)

“I got it, you're tired. It happens.” A smirk hovers around her lips. “You know, the oldness.”

It take some moments to understand. _Ah._ Always snarky, his Ahsoka.

“ _What?_ ”

“You're no young man anymore. It's natural.”

“I recall to you that you are not that much younger.”

The thought of a middle-aged Ahsoka makes him smile – and miraculously, smiling doesn't hurt anymore. Not that he ever had a reason to smile in two decades.

“If you want to talk about my _oldness_ , admit we are both old.”

“No way, Skyguy.”

She punches him lightly on his arm, pretending to be offended. She mutters something sarcastic about “ _What manneers with a lady_ ” and bursts out laughing, pressing her face against his chest to smother the laughter.

Then she hugs him – the strength of her love pulsing like a sun through the Force – and they stay like that for a little while, mindful of when they lost each other and themselves.

“I missed this. I missed you.”

Anakin doesn't reply. He gently lays a hand on her montral, and lets the Force speak.

“Erm. May I interrupt?”

Luke's voice distracts them. Ahsoka steps away from him, slightly embarassed of being caught in such a tender situation.

“Dinner is on the table, father – Ahsoka.” Luke smiles in his peaceful and bright way that resembles Padmé's, and her starry goodness. Her memory will never cease to torment him, he knows that much.

“Skyguy jr., you're an angel.” Ahsoka smiles back and nods friendly at Anakin.

“Your son is lovely.”

“I know.”

She grasps his hand with just the slightest hesitation.

“He's more than lovely. He brought you _home_. I'm so grateful to him for that – you have no idea.”

Anakin lightly squeezes her fingers and follows her home. “So am I.”

 


End file.
